


think i heard some wedding bells (keep it to yourself)

by gothfob



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: 3 weddings in one fic, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Banter, Flirting, Kissing, M/M, Power Bottom Patrick, Rimming, Smut, This is a clusterfuck, i think i overdid it, meet ugly, patrick is a little drunk for part of this, slight breathplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:27:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22724668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gothfob/pseuds/gothfob
Summary: The one where Patrick accidentally crashes a wedding that Pete happens to be the best man of. Valentine’s Day shenanigans ensue.
Relationships: Patrick Stump/Pete Wentz
Comments: 14
Kudos: 51
Collections: Be My Peterick Valentine 2020





	think i heard some wedding bells (keep it to yourself)

Patrick is convinced he has bad luck. He often finds himself in highly uncomfortable and unbearably awkward situations. This could be a side effect of his social anxiety, sure. But he thinks there’s much more to it than that. 

Patrick is supposed to be going to his best friend’s wedding today. He thinks getting married on Valentine’s Day is a little cheesy, and he absolutely told Joe exactly that. The thing is, it’s not his wedding. So his opinion doesn’t really matter.

Therefore, Patrick finds himself putting on his grey suit and fixing his tie in the floor length mirror in the hallway. He combs through his hair with his fingers and puts on his dress shoes before he heads out the door. 

Joe gave him the address of the church, so Patrick punches it into the GPS in his car and is on his way fairly quickly. 

When Patrick arrives, he finds one of the few parking spots that are left and shuts off the car. He takes a deep breath, smooths out his black button down and fixes his suit jacket before getting out of the car and heading to the door. 

This is where he makes possibly the worst mistake of his short life to date. He shoves the door open and trips over the carpet that’s in the aisle before he narrowly manages to catch himself on one of the pews. 

When he dares to look up, everyone in the room is staring at him. Also, he realizes that the happy couple at the altar is not, in fact, Joe and Marie. 

He isn’t sure how he managed to fuck up this badly in such a short span of time, but here he is, blushing furiously with his mouth gaping open. 

“I’m sorry.” Patrick mumbles half-heartedly, so embarrassed he wants a hole to open up in the floor and swallow him. He should probably get out of here and find his way to the correct wedding, but something stops him dead in his tracks. 

The best man of the groom is glaring at him. Quite intensely. Kind of creepily, even. Patrick should be unsettled by this, he knows. 

But the thing is...the best man is really fucking _hot._ So he can’t bring himself to care all that much. He can’t help making eye contact with him and smirking. Just to fuck with him a bit. It can’t hurt anything at this point, really. 

The best man looks at him incredulously, and then his glare seems to upgrade to a glower before he finally tears his gaze away and goes back to the ceremony. 

Patrick quietly sits in the last pew, which is thankfully empty. No one seems to notice him now that they're all focused on the vows that are happening. Patrick slides his phone out of his pocket to check the time. He still has an hour before Joe’s wedding starts. Perfect. 

While he’s at it, he double checks the text that Joe sent him with the address and Patrick realizes that he put in the wrong street name because he misspelled it. Fuck. Only him, he swears. 

  
  


Patrick shoots off a text to let Joe know he’s running a little late, but he should still be able to make it before the ceremony begins. 

Once he’s done, everyone around him is standing on their feet and clapping. Patrick, trying to be polite and blend in at the same time, joins in. 

The newlyweds make their way down the aisle, and then everyone files out through a door that leads into a hallway. Patrick assumes they must be holding the reception in a different room. 

Just as Patrick is about to sneak out of the church and act like he was never there, there’s a tap on his shoulder. Patrick steels himself, expecting to face the wrath of the bride. 

He is so glad to be wrong. It’s the very, stupidly, unfairly attractive best man. Who still looks incredibly pissed at him. 

The best man gives him a once over, arms crossed over his chest and his eyebrows furrowed in disdain. 

“Crashing my best friend’s wedding is _so_ not cool, dude.” Hot Guy says. Patrick is focused more on the eyeliner he’s wearing than the words he’s saying. Oops. 

“I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to. I was-” Patrick starts, before he’s cut off abruptly. 

“How did you even know about this wedding? You’re a complete stranger. I can’t stand for some random person ruining my best friend’s wedding. That’s not fucking okay.” Guyliner says. 

“I didn’t know about it at all, actually. Christ. I was on my way to my friends wedding. I guess I just put in the wrong address in my GPS without realizing it. I wasn’t planning on staying for the reception, or to disrupt anyone. I was on my way _out._ ” Patrick says pointedly, tapping his foot in annoyance. 

“What are you, an idiot?” Guyliner says derisively. 

“What are you, an asshole?” Patrick retorts in a mocking tone of voice. “This experience was much more humiliating for me than it was for you or your friends.” 

“ _I’m_ the asshole for sticking up for my friends on the most important day of their lives?” Guyliner bites out.

“No. You’re an asshole because you could’ve just politely asked me to leave, and then I would be on my way.” Patrick replies sourly. 

He looks like he’s going to say something condescending, but he suddenly decides to shift gears. 

The tension between them seems to dissipate as soon as Guyliner laughs. It’s a loud, braying sound. Patrick tries super hard to not be charmed by it. He fails miserably. 

“You know what? You’re totally right. I’m sorry for being a dick. I’m just trying to look out for my friends.” Guyliner apologizes.

Patrick is shocked. He doesn’t look like the type of man who has ever had to apologize for anything. Not with that face.

“That’s okay. I understand. I should...get going so I’m not late for the wedding I was actually invited to.” Patrick jokes, but he doesn’t actually turn to leave. 

“It was nice meeting you. I’m Pete.” Pete replies, holding out a hand for Patrick to shake. Patrick complies, and the feeling of Pete’s hand in his own sends a charge through his body. 

“I’m Patrick.” Patrick says, gone a little stupid with the proximity to an attractive man who is touching him and making eye contact at the same time. 

“Patrick. I like it. Fits you well.” Pete smiles, and it’s absolutely _devastating._ Patrick feels like his knees are about to give out. 

“Thanks.” Patrick chokes out. “I should probably go now.” Patrick says this very reluctantly. If he’s going to leave, he’d prefer to do it with this mans number. 

“Don’t.” Pete blurts, and then seems to grimace at how desperate he sounds. “I mean. Stay for a few minutes, yeah? We’ve got an insanely awesome buffet.” 

“Yeah, sure. Sounds great. Lead the way.” Patrick replies, feeling like he’s in a trance. Pete could be luring him into a death trap and he wouldn’t really care. 

The room that’s been rented out for the reception is packed with people, in various states of drunkenness. As much as Patrick would like a drink, he still has to drive to the correct church soon. 

Pete takes hold of his wrist and guides him through the crowd till they reach the table filled with food. 

He piles a plate high with everything on the table, and then he leads Patrick to one of the tables in the corner to eat. 

Patrick picks up one of the pigs in a blanket and dips it in honey mustard before shoving it in his mouth in the least graceful way possible. 

“Do all weddings have such not fancy food?” Patrick asks. 

“Those are vegan sausages, actually. Everything here is vegan, because my best friend is.” Pete answers, grabbing french fries off the plate and sticking two of them in his mouth, making him look like a walrus. What a fucking dork. Patrick is begrudgingly amused. 

“Oh. That’s cool. They taste pretty good.” Patrick mumbles, picking another appetizer off the plate. It looks like a vegan chicken wing. 

“The seasonings and sauces definitely help.” Pete chuckles. Patrick nods, and finishes eating his half of the plate in an embarrassingly fast amount of time. 

“So. Tell me if I’m being too forward, but...Can I have your number?” Patrick dares to ask. He feels anxious, worried that someone that looks like Pete could never be interested in him. 

“Oh.” Pete says, swallowing the bite of food before he continues. “I’d love to give you my number. But I was kind of hoping I could spend more time with you, like, _now._ ” Pete breaks out into a grin so bright it nearly blinds him. 

“I’d like that, so much. But I really have to make it to my best friend’s wedding. Preferably before the ceremony starts.” Patrick frowns, feeling crushed at the prospect of not getting to know this incredibly gorgeous man immediately. 

“Okay. I have a proposition for you. How about I come with you to the wedding. It’s only fair, right? Besides, I really want to meet some of your friends.” Pete gives him these big, puppy dog eyes. He just can’t say no. 

“Alright. But only if you introduce me to your friends before we leave.” Patrick replies. 

“Great. I’ll make it quick.” Pete smiles at him, this one smaller and more private. Pete takes his hand this time as he leads him towards the dance floor, where the happy couple are slow dancing.

Luckily, they aren’t interrupting their first dance. Patrick thinks he’d die if he made a fool out of himself in front of these people again in the span of about fifteen minutes. 

“Yo, Hurley.” Pete says, tapping the groom on the shoulder. He and his new wife both pull apart and turn to face them. “This is Patrick. He was the accidental wedding crasher. Patrick, this is Andy and his wife, Meredith.” 

“I’m really sorry for the misunderstanding. I was on my way to my friend’s wedding and I got the address wrong somehow.” Patrick flushes so hard he feels like he might faint. 

“No worries, dude. Nice to meet you. I see that Pete has taken quite a liking to you already.” Andy replies, giving Pete a look that Patrick can’t really decipher. 

Patrick isn’t sure what to say to that, but luckily, Meredith interjects. 

“Hi. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Meredith, but you can call me Mer.” She gives Patrick a smile. “I have to agree with Andy. Anyone who Pete likes is special.” 

Meredith’s eyes twinkle as she looks between the two of them. Patrick, if possible, blushes even more profusely than before. He’s pretty sure it can be seen from outer space. 

“Thanks, but I really don’t think so.” Patrick replies weakly, attempting to brush off the compliment and the connotation that goes with it. 

“I do. Rick is very special, and I know that within a half hour of meeting him.” Pete sing-songs, booping Patrick on the nose. Patrick can’t look any of them in the eyes now, out of sheer humiliation. 

“Clearly.” Andy says, his voice full of mirth. 

“Right. So. Patrick and I are actually going to go to his friend’s wedding. I just wanted to introduce you guys and give you a heads up. But if you need anything, just call.” Pete says, putting his arm around Patrick in a move so smooth that Patrick doesn’t even realize it’s happening until after it’s already done. 

“Oh.” Meredith’s eyebrows raise towards her hairline. “Okay. Hope you two have fun. See you later, Pete.” 

“Later, man.” Andy says, fistbumping Pete. 

“Peace out.” Pete grins. 

“Congratulations! Have a good night.” Patrick gets out before Pete drags him to the coat rack, then outside into the cold air of the parking lot. 

Pete slides his arm off Patrick’s shoulder when they reach the car, and Patrick instantly misses the warmth of him pressed up against his side. 

Patrick starts the car, cranks up the heat to full blast, and takes out his phone to make sure he spells the address correctly this time. When he’s done, he puts his phone in the cup holder and backs out of his parking space. 

Pete is watching him, and when he turns his head and catches him, Pete doesn’t even look ashamed. He just beams at Patrick and waves. Patrick rolls his eyes, and then he keeps his head facing forwards as he pulls out onto the road and follows the directions. 

The ride to the church leaves a comfortable silence between them, the only noise being the heat running and the radio put on a classic rock station (Pete’s doing). 

When they get there, Patrick lets out a sigh of relief as soon as he sees Joe’s car in the lot. Pete giggles, undoing his seatbelt and wrapping his jacket around him tighter before he gets out of the car. 

Patrick follows, and they make their way through the doors. Patrick leads Pete this time, to put away their jackets. Patrick escorts Pete into one of the pews, and then he makes his way up to the altar where Joe is already standing and takes his place as the best man. 

The minister is right behind them, so Joe can’t make any inappropriate comments as he waits for the music to start and his bride to walk down the aisle. But that’s not for lack of trying. 

Joe nudges him in the side and raises an eyebrow whilst jerking his head to where Pete is sitting. 

“Who’s the pretty boy?” Joe whispers. 

“I’ll explain later.” Patrick whispers back, shrugging and shoving his hands into his pockets. 

“You better.” Joe threatens, and then all the malice drains from his face when Marie appears at the end of the aisle. 

Patrick smiles as he admires the way the two of them look at each other, like nothing else matters.

The ceremony is beautiful, and Patrick will admit he cried listening to their vows. When all is said and done, and they finally make their way to the reception, Joe is stopped from interrogating him by Marie dragging him into their first dance. 

Pete grabs two flutes of champagne off the platter of a nearby server, and Patrick happily takes one before weaving his way through the crowd to their assigned seats. Patrick is grateful that Joe gave him an extra seat, even though he said he wouldn’t be bringing anyone. He’ll have to thank Joe later. 

The only thing is, their table is shared with Joe and Marie. Which means that interrogation is imminent, and it’s making Patrick anxious. 

Patrick gulps down half of his champagne and fidgets with the glass. 

“What do you do?” Pete asks, out of the blue. Or maybe Patrick just wasn’t paying attention.

“I work at a record store. I went to college for a degree in music, but that didn’t get me very far. So I got the next best thing I could think of.” Patrick says, a little surprised that he laid all of that on the table so quickly. He’s already a little tipsy, that has to be it. 

“Aw, that’s sweet. You’re really into music, then. Me too. I was in a bunch of bands when I was younger.” Pete grins fondly at the memory, his gaze far away for a moment. 

“I was too!” Patrick says excitedly. “What kind of bands? Like, what genre?” 

  
  


“Hardcore stuff. I did a lot of writing lyrics and screaming into a microphone.” Pete laughs. “I wasn’t any good. I can’t sing to save my life, so I didn’t try.” 

“I was in hardcore bands as well. I played the drums or guitar though, mostly. I’m sad I didn’t get to see you perform. Even if your screaming was atrocious, I’m sure you still looked hot. Do you still write?” Patrick teases. 

“I do. I write books now. Poetry, for the most part. But a novel too.” Pete discloses. “Also, you’re way too pretty to be stuck behind a drum set. Can you sing?” 

“I’d love to read your books sometime. I’m sure they’re fantastic.” Patrick replies, flushing all the way down his neck from the compliment. “I don’t really think I can sing. I don’t like being the center of attention. But Joe keeps insisting that I sing a song instead of give a speech at his wedding. I agreed, because I’m a masochist.” 

“Thanks.” Pete’s eyes sparkle back at him, golden in the light. “If your best friend is asking you to sing at this wedding, that means you must be awesome at it, man. I’m looking forward to seeing your performance.” 

“I’m really not.” Patrick snorts. “I’m mediocre at best.” 

“I don’t believe you.” Pete says, leaning closer until his hot breath is hitting Patrick’s neck.

Before Patrick can reply, Joe and Marie finally sit down at the table. Pete and Patrick spring apart in record time. 

“Well. What do we have here?” Joe looks smug. Patrick doesn’t like it at all. 

“Nothing.” Patrick blurts, clearing his throat to stall before he says anything stupid. “This is Pete. I kinda accidentally crashed his best friend’s wedding.” 

Joe sits down next to Patrick and makes a face. Marie sits down beside him, with their hands intertwined. 

“Patrick,” Marie sighs, fondly exasperated. “I’m not even going to ask how that happened. But I will say, your friend is _very_ handsome.” 

Patrick is taking turns sending them both death glares back and forth. 

“Thanks! You flatter me.” Pete preens, smirking. 

“So you met at a wedding you crashed. And you decided to drag him to mine?” Joe asks, raising an eyebrow. 

“Well. He asked if he could come. I didn’t want to say no.” Patrick waves the comment off with his hand. 

“I see. Well, nice to meet you, man. I’m Joe, and this is my wife, Marie.” Joe turns to Pete and sticks out his hand to shake. 

“Nice to meet you, too.” Pete accepts the handshake graciously, his megawatt smile firmly in place. 

“It’s nice to see Patrick isn’t alone for once. He’s a bit...prickly at times.” Marie says, grimacing. Pete laughs. Patrick kicks her shin under the table. Not that hard, he swears. It’s more of a love tap than anything. 

“He is. But I like that in a man.” Pete plants a kiss on Patrick’s cheek without prompting. Patrick resorts to hiding his flaming face in his hands to avoid scrutiny. 

“He’s definitely a catch.” Joe looks very amused. “You’ll have to thank me for bringing you two together when you get married. I’m calling it now.” 

“Joe! Shut up!” Patrick hisses, his face so red he looks like a cartoon character with smoke about to come out of his ears. 

“I like you, Joe. You’re a hopeless romantic, just like me.” Pete giggles. 

“Yeah. But I also just really like torturing Patrick.” Joe snickers conspiratorially. Patrick cannot believe this is happening right now. They’re all teaming up and working against him. He needs better friends.

With that, they end up having small talk as they drink more champagne and eat dinner. Patrick only wants to strangle Joe and/or Pete a total of seven times, so it could be worse. 

Joe and Marie get up when the cake is brought out so they can cut it and feed each other. Pete comes back with a slice for each of them, and slides the plate in front of Patrick. 

At this point of the night, everyone is bordering on wasted. Which means most people are dancing really terribly. It also means Patrick needs to perform his song. 

He’s less anxious about it with the alcohol in his system, so that’s one good thing. 

He gets up on the stage and stutters an awkward introduction into the mic before the opening of _To Make You Feel My Love_ by Adele begins to play. 

Patrick chose this song because he thinks it’s a fitting one for a wedding. Serious, heartfelt, beautiful. He’s positive Joe and Marie will love it. 

Patrick tries to keep his eyes on Joe and Marie, holding each other and swaying. But his eyes betray him, keep sliding to where Pete is sitting and watching him raptly. 

Patrick feels like his heart is going to seize up in his chest, but he takes a breath and soldiers on until he finishes the song with a flourish and a bow to smattering applause. 

When he gets back to their table, Joe smiles and gives him a pat on the back.

“That was beautiful, man. Thank you.” Joe says. 

“No problem.” Patrick replies, and then he hugs both Joe and Marie. He also wishes them a good night, because people are starting to disperse a little at this point. 

When Patrick turns around, Pete is on his feet and giving him a very intense look. Much like the glare he shot him when they first met, except not at all angry. It looks much darker. It makes Patrick’s body flood with heat. 

“God, you were fucking incredible. Having a voice that perfect should be illegal.” Pete says, breathless. 

“Thanks. It’s nothing special, really.” Patrick laughs and scratches the back of his neck nervously. 

“Don’t do that. Don’t put yourself down. You’re talented, and you deserve to hear that.” Pete says fiercely. 

Patrick swallows hard, his mouth gone dry. He nods. 

“Now. Can I have this dance?” Pete asks, holding out his hand in invitation. Patrick takes it without hesitation. 

_A Groovy Kind Of Love_ by Phil Collins starts playing, and Patrick can’t help but smile at that. 

They’re slow dancing, Pete’s hands on his waist and Patrick’s hands on his shoulders. They’re pressed so close together that there is no space between them. 

Patrick feels woozy, from the booze he’s had tonight and the proximity to Pete. But it’s a pleasant sensation, adrenaline pumping through him. He feels lighter than air. 

One of Pete’s hands trail up to his face, tracing his jawline slowly. Patrick shivers, pushing into the touch and crossing his arms behind Pete’s neck to pull him in closer. He just can’t resist. 

Even though he sees it coming, it still sends a thrill down his spine when Pete kisses him. Patrick kisses back with all he’s got, one of his hands holding onto the back of Pete’s neck and the other buried in his hair. 

It’s an amazing first kiss, starting out chaste and gentle. But it quickly devolves into more kisses with a lot of tongue, and Patrick’s legs are starting to feel like jelly again. 

He clutches onto Pete’s white button up for dear life, and when they pull back to breathe Pete’s eyes crinkle with the force of his smile. It’s contagious, Patrick can’t help returning it. 

“You are a really good kisser.” Pete admits, his fingers tracing Patrick’s bottom lip. 

“I try.” Patrick giggles, his heart about ready to burst out of his chest. 

“Take me home.” Pete blurts. 

“What?” Patrick chokes out. What are the chances a man this beautiful would want to sleep with him? 

“Take me back to your place. I want you.” Pete looks a a bit sheepish now, but Patrick can tell he means it. 

Apparently the chances are a lot higher than he initially thought. But he’s not going to look a gift horse in the mouth, obviously. 

“Yeah. I want you, too. We can totally do that.” Patrick replies, his chest rising and falling so fast it’s almost painful. 

“Right now.” Pete clarifies, when all Patrick does is stand there and stare at him hungrily. 

“Oh fuck. Of course. Alright, let’s go then.” Patrick says with his last two brain cells. 

Pete ends up dragging him by the hand again, to get their jackets. 

“I think I should drive. I switched to water halfway through the night, so I’m a lot more sober than you are right now.” Pete says, once they’ve managed to walk through the icy parking lot to the car. 

“Probably for the best.” Patrick hiccups, and hands over his keys. He manages to put his address in the GPS for the ride back home, and then he leans his hot face against the cold window. 

The ride to his apartment is dark, the city silent as Pete sings off key along to the radio. It’s terrible, but it makes Patrick grin. 

Once they arrive and Pete parks the car, Patrick threads his arm through Pete’s for balance purposes only, he swears. 

They make their way up the steps, and Patrick unlocks the front door to the apartment complex, and then they go up a flight of stairs to the second floor where his apartment resides. 

After fumbling with the keys for two minutes, he finally finds the right one on the ring and shoves the door open. 

Patrick takes off his jacket, doesn’t bother hanging it up, and then kicks his shoes off. 

Pete snorts, and then he puts his jacket on the rack, and places his shoes neatly by the door. 

Patrick doesn’t realize he’s sitting on the floor until Pete helps him stand up and walk down the hallway to his bedroom. 

Pete sits on the edge of the bed, and Patrick flops backwards onto it. 

“Do you want a glass of water or a cup of coffee?” Pete asks gently.

“No. I’m not _that_ drunk.” Patrick giggles. Which isn’t all that convincing, but he knew he wanted to have sex with Pete before he drank the champagne. His judgement is not impaired. 

“If you say so, Tricky.” Pete smiles down at him fondly.

Patrick decides now is a good time to sit up, push Pete flat onto his back, and straddle his hips. 

“Have I told you how pretty you are?” Patrick simpers, as he starts unbuttoning Pete’s shirt. 

“No, but I think it definitely bears repeating.” Pete pants. 

Patrick manages to get Pete to lift off the bed a little, so he can pull off his shirt and his suit jacket at the same time and throw them onto the floor. 

When Pete settles back against the bed, Patrick takes in all that tawny skin and tattoos. He wants to lick them, so he does. Starting with the necklace of thorns. 

Patrick bites one of Pete’s collarbones teasingly. He makes his way down, nibbling at one of Pete’s nipples and making him groan. 

Finally, he circles his tongue around Pete’s naval, following his happy trail to the seam of his dress pants. 

Patrick places a wet kiss to Pete’s hipbone as he pulls down his pants and his boxers in quick succession. 

Pete is now completely naked underneath him, his dick engorged and laying against his stomach, dripping against the ink between his hips. 

Patrick is too enraptured in his desire to ask what the tattoo is of, but he makes a note of it for later. Right now there are more pressing things to deal with. 

“You should,” Pete gets out, trying to catch his breath. “You should get naked. I want to see.” Pete begs, his eyes wide with how much he wants. 

“Eager, huh? Anything for you, baby.” Patrick soothes. He’s sweating, so he’ll gladly take his suit off. 

Patrick unbuttons his shirt, shrugs out of his suit jacket, and shimmies his pants and underwear down his thighs in record time. 

When he’s done, he climbs back on top of Pete and kisses him. Their naked skin is pressed together, slick and soft in all the right ways. 

Pete whimpers when Patrick bites down on his lower lip and tugs. 

“You’re so beautiful.” Pete says, his voice low and gravelly. Patrick doesn’t respond, just smiles and kisses Pete’s neck. 

Patrick leans to the side to find the lube and condoms, and when he emerges with them, Pete’s hands are on his lower back, rubbing lightly just above his ass.

“Give me your hand.” Patrick commands. Pete obeys without question. 

Patrick clicks open the bottle of lube and squirts some onto Pete’s fingers. 

Pete doesn’t really need instruction on what comes next. He brings his slick hand down to the cleft of Patrick’s ass, pushing down on the pucker of his hole. 

Patrick bites his lip at the pressure, and presses back against him until the finger breaches the muscle. 

Pete’s other hand steadies him by gripping his hip tightly. Pete adds a second finger, and then a third. Patrick can feel himself getting more desperate, greedy to be filled. 

Patrick inhales sharply when Pete pulls his fingers out. Pete opens the condom with his teeth and slides it down his length. Patrick’s mouth is watering just looking at it. 

Patrick puts his hands on Pete’s chest for leverage as he sinks down onto his dick. Pete makes a noise that sounds like he’s been shot. It’s incredibly flattering. 

Once his dick is buried to the hilt inside Patrick, he grins and leans in for a kiss. Patrick gladly accepts it, and then he starts to rock his hips. Slowly at first, grinding in circles. 

He starts to lift himself up and drop back down, and Pete meets him thrust for thrust. It’s heavenly, the pleasure is better than he knew it could be. He hasn’t got laid in a while, but he’s pretty sure he’d remember if it felt like this. 

Patrick starts to pick up the pace, delighting in the way his thighs burn with exertion. Pete’s whimpers, moans, cries push him to keep going, to push them higher. The more noises he can wring out of Pete the better he feels. 

Pete has given up on trying to move his hips at all, he’s just laid down bonelessly with his head tipped back. Patrick has an idea, and he just can’t resist the temptation. 

Patrick leans forwards, until he can bring his hand up to Pete’s throat and squeeze. Not hard, just a little bit of pressure. 

Pete shudders against him, arches into the touch. Patrick smirks, and keeps his hand there as he rides Pete’s dick into oblivion. 

Pete grabs his ass in both hands, pulling his cheeks apart and urging him onwards. 

Patrick doesn’t want to come first. So, he clenches tight around Pete’s cock and stays perfectly still, just contracting his walls around the intrusion. 

“Fuck, that feels amazing. You’re so perfect.” Pete says, his voice gone thin and reedy with how close he is. 

Patrick bites his lip, flutters his eyelashes, and then he starts riding Pete again so hard that the bedframe is slamming into the wall. 

Pete shrieks when he comes, his dick pulsing and twitching inside of Patrick, his eyes rolling back in ecstasy. 

Patrick laughs, exhilarated at making this beautiful creature fall apart. 

He carefully pulls off Pete’s dick and rolls over next to him. Before he can get a hand around his own prick, Pete swats it away. 

“Let me…” Pete gasps. He’s still trembling with aftershocks. “Eat you out.” Pete pleads. 

Patrick really loves getting his ass played with. So he nods, gets onto his belly, and spreads himself open.

Pete’s mouth is very talented. He licks around Patrick’s entrance, sloppy and wet, his spit mixing with lube. His tongue slides inside of Patrick easily after getting fucked. 

Pete places biting kisses against his rim, fucking his tongue in and out until Patrick is ready to scream.

Patrick is rutting against the bed, trying to get any friction against his throbbing, aching dick. 

Pete seems to notice his struggle, and he brings one hand down between Patrick’s legs and tugs on his balls, trails upwards to wrap his hand around Patrick’s cock and stroke him just right. 

The angle must be hell on Pete’s wrist, but he doesn’t stop his ministrations. Patrick fucks into his palm and back against his face until he can’t remember his own name. 

The orgasm is so blinding when it hits him, it’s like being struck by lightning. Patrick growls, and then his dick spurts in thick, steady pulses against Pete’s hand and all over the sheets. 

His stomach cramps from the pleasure, and Pete keeps flicking his tongue inside of him and he feels like he might never stop coming. He’d be perfectly okay with that, actually. 

When it’s finally over, Patrick thinks he may never move again. He’s so sex drunk and exhausted, he can’t form sentences for a good few minutes. 

Pete leaves the room to dispose of the condom and he comes back with a warm washcloth to clean them both up. Patrick is half asleep, barely able to keep his eyes open. 

Pete wraps him in his big, strong arms, and Patrick is out like a light. 

xxx

When Patrick wakes up in the morning, his whole body is pleasantly sore. He’s also cuddling with a man he met at the wrong wedding. 

Pete is already awake, watching him. Patrick scrunches up his nose and snuggles closer for warmth.

“Were you watching me sleep?” Patrick mumbles. 

“Yeah. I don’t sleep much, like, most of the time.” Pete is very unabashed about being caught red handed. 

“I usually don’t pass out immediately after sex. But you really wore me out.” Patrick laughs. 

“Me? Please. You fucked me to death. I’m pretty sure I’m a ghost now.” Pete snorts. 

“How charming. Romance at it’s finest.” Patrick replies dryly. He stretches in bed, and then scoots to the edge of the bed to get up. 

“Mmm. Let me cook you breakfast.” Pete says, his eyes burning into Patrick’s back as he puts on boxers and finds a well worn t-shirt with a hole in the collar to pull over his head. 

“Like I’m going to say no to that.” Patrick smiles, and pads his way into the bathroom. It’s the beginning of a beautiful relationship. 

xxx

**5 Years Later**

Patrick can’t believe Pete managed to convince him to get married on Valentine’s day. Granted, they did meet each other at Andy’s wedding that also took place on Valentine’s day. But that’s why Patrick finds it gross and sappy. 

Pete doesn’t care. He secretes sappiness from his pores. Patrick admires that about him. 

So they find themselves getting married in their backyard, and Joe is officiating the whole thing. Which means Patrick had to pick another best man, and him and Pete both settled on Gabe. 

All of their friends and family are here, but it’s still a pretty small, quiet affair. 

Andy hands them the rings, after Pete professes his undying love with a lot of intense poetry. Patrick’s vows are much more simple, but they get the point across. 

“You may now kiss your husband.” Joe says, beaming at the two of them. 

Pete pulls him in and kisses him for all he’s worth. It’s absolutely perfect. 

They’re married. Patrick keeps looking down at his hand like the ring will suddenly disappear. 

They have their first dance to _I Want To Know What Love Is_ by Foreigner. Because Patrick figured they might as well go for broke, and it makes Pete happy. He’d do anything to make Pete happy. 

Gabe gets up on the makeshift stage to give his speech. 

“I’ve known Pete and Patrick for a while. Pretty much since they became a couple. I’ve watched their love for each other grow and flourish, and it’s pretty fucking sick, dude. 

“They’re some of the best people I know, and they’ve taught me what true love looks like in real life. So thank you, mi hermanos. May your marriage be everlasting and the sex never get stale. Here’s to them.” Gabe laughs, and raises his champagne flute in a toast. 

Patrick rolls his eyes and claps. Pete whistles, and then pulls Gabe into a hug. 

The best day of his life comes to a close slow dancing with Pete once more. 

“Hey, guess what?” Pete murmurs in his ear. 

“Hmm?” Patrick hums. 

“I love you and I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.” Pete grins, kissing his cheek. 

Patrick’s face goes soft with the admission. 

“I love you, too. You emo asshole. You’re gonna make me cry.” Patrick huffs. 

“As long as they’re happy tears, I’m okay with that.” Pete replies, and then he kisses Patrick for the first time again. Or the millionth. The past and the present blur together in his mind. Patrick can’t keep count. 

**Author's Note:**

> as always, i am so honored to be participating in this collection! do yourself a favor and read everyone else’s wonderful creations too. 
> 
> obviously i flubbed some details here because it’s fictional, but let’s pretend that meredith and andy are married, okay. for plot purposes. patrick is a little inebriated before the sex happens, but if that squicks anyone out, i apologize. 
> 
> i wrote the majority of this last night and today on my phone. but i hope you enjoy it!
> 
> comments and kudos fuel my life force 
> 
> title from R.E.M. by ariana grande 
> 
> come talk to me on tumblr @gothfob


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